Dad and I had been fixing a fence when the next door neighbour stopped to share his thoughts on my education. It was 1980 and I was 10.

But Mum and Dad were prepared to make enormous sacrifices to give their kids great educations. They both knew from personal experience what it meant.

My Dad was a lot like Bill Shorten’s mum, only he never did get a university degree. His impediment was similar, too: family, with the added demands of farming.

Dad was bright and wanted to be an engineer but the local high school only went to year 10 and his parents were not rich. Still, they were supportive. When he was accepted by the selective Melbourne Boys’ High, Dad was sent to board with cousins in the big city.

The experience was transformative. For the boy from South Gippsland, Melbourne Boys High opened new horizons, hopes and dreams.

Then his own father fell gravely ill and there was no option other than to return home to run the farm. Dad finally sat his matric amongst the local teens in his 40s and, while he loved to draw up extravagant plans for everything from the pump house to the new garage, becoming an engineer was beyond his reach.

Dad made the most of his farming career and even won a six-month study tour to the US sponsored by the Young Farmers.

“She just stands there, like this, frozen,” he said, arms held stiffly by his side, gaze fixed in the far distance.

“It’s not easy taking on a farm right now. No feed around at all, y’know.”

It was a two-minute conversation on the side of a dusty gravel track about a little brindle bull I’d noticed on the roadside a couple of hundred metres back. But it stayed with me the rest of yesterday only to resurface in my dreams.

The farmer in the terry towelling hat I’d warned about the wayward bull was talking about a dairyfarmer my own age who is not coping any more. She owns the bull but she’s no longer the one to call about him.

Nor is she the only one.

There’s also the farming acquaintance who spent two-and-a-half hours in the supermarket the other day, just to get away from the farm and her husband, who has turned to drink to make his own escape.

Dreams, lives, families are being smashed to smithereens. Even so, change is coming at a faster rate than dairy industry bodies seem capable of recognising.

A few days ago, Dairy Australia, Australian Dairy Farmers, Australian Dairy Products Federation and the Gardiner Dairy Foundation issued a media release inviting farmers to be involved in:

“…consultation that will support the development of the Australian Dairy Plan, identifying key industry priorities and delivering transformative and positive change for dairy over the next five years and beyond.” – joint media release dated April 15

It’s fair to say that the responses in farmer social media forums has been nothing short of scathing.

Quad bikes are part of everyday life on most dairy farms but it’s a big mistake to take them for granted.

Some say it’s only operator error that gets people killed on quads. But everyone’s capable of being human.

Wayne and I pride ourselves on being safety conscious but over time, have almost squashed or necked ourselves just making simple mistakes.

Fast, powerful and agile, quads are incredibly practical machines that can kill precisely because they are fast, powerful and agile. We were lucky not to be hurt but, sometimes, luck just isn’t enough.

Wayne hurt his back badly a couple of months ago and it’s still what I’d call “delicate”. The injury is aggravated by everyday farming chores and nothing’s more precious than health and family. Not even the farm.

It’s satisfying to look back at what we’ve acheived over the last 10 years.

We’ve planted about 15,000 trees to create shade and shelter for us, the cows and the wildlife

The public tide of sympathy for dairy farmers has pushed the supermarkets to act again, this time, with “drought relief” milk. It’s the latest incarnation of what DIAA scholar Norman Repacholi rightly calls “welfare milk”.

I cannot tell you how grateful I am to everyone who is pushing the supermarkets to do better. But this just can’t go on.

The so-called “drought relief” of 10 cents will reach few of us but all of us are affected by skyrocketing feed prices and need to pass some costs on. Only, we can’t.

Despite the special $3.30 for 3 litre milk that will be promoted for three months or so, most homebrand milk will remain priced at $1 per litre.

Those are 1992 prices. If milk had kept pace with inflation, it would today sell for $1.80 per litre.

Now, it’s true that fresh white milk sold through supermarkets does not account for a big percentage of the milk produced by most Victorian dairy farms. Some will tap their noses wisely and say that it doesn’t really matter a hell of a lot.

But it does, even to a farm like mine whose milk is turned into infant formula. It matters because it demonstrates perfectly how terribly captive Australian dairy farming is and how much reform is badly needed.

I can’t imagine any other Australian who would put up with all their blood, sweat and tears being discounted to 1992 prices. Yet we do, and that culture permeates the way prices are set for all of our milk.

It’s time to banish the begging bowls and get Australian dairy farming back on its feet.

Coles has followed Woolies’ move to increase the price of its 3 litre milk from $3 to $3.30 and both have promised they will donate the entire increase to farmers affected by drought.

I’m rapt that the supermarkets are finally doing something to loosen the screws. Farmers are suffering death by a thousand cuts and even this limited relief is certainly very welcome, particularly in NSW, Queensland and Western Australia, where most of the milk ends up in the supermarket fridge.

To everyone who has spoken up for farmers, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

But, and it’s a BIG but, at the risk of sounding like a whingeing farmer, there are three inconvenient truths that will continue to see farmers quit dairying:

The drought is big trouble, yes, but there’s an exodus of dairy farmers (including those not hit by drought) because there’s simply not enough profit at the farm gate.

Only about 13 per cent of the milk produced by Australian dairy farms ends up as fresh white milk on the supermarket shelf, even less in Victoria where most of the cows live! The biggest use for our milk is…cheese.

In other words, it’s like putting a band-aid over an ulcer. Better than nothing but you’re hardly going to save the patient.

Like an oozing sore on the ankle of Australian dairy, the frustration with the inaction of our national umbrella body has finally broken into an open wound.

Months after releasing its report into our woes, the ACCC has released a guide to the recommendations in an apparent attempt to build momentum.

Meanwhile, the federal agriculture minister, David Littleproud, has delivered dairy leaders an ultimatum backed up by a statement issued yesterday that includes this slap in the face for our representatives:

“The ACCC report into the sector identified market failure. I asked the dairy sector to come to a united position on a response to the report and a mandatory code of conduct for the dairy industry. This has not yet happened.”